


Roar

by musicmillennia



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Dragons, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 07:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9873050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/musicmillennia
Summary: Although Ray is really enjoying fighting for the actual Queen Guinevere, he can do with a dragon's interference.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Come on guys, what did you expect? They made a Camelot episode.
> 
> Gower comes WAY after 507 AD and what most people of his time consider the height of chivalry, and that it was written for King Richard and not Arthur, but let me have this.

_Ad laudem Cristi, quem tu, virgo, peperisti,  
_       _Sit laus Arthur, quem sceptra colunt leopardi._  
_Ad sua precepta compleui carmina cepta,_  
_Que Bruti nata legat Anglia perpetuata._

John Gower,  _Confessio Amantis_ _: Book 8_ (First Recension: Ricardian version)

 

Although Ray is really enjoying fighting for the actual Queen Guinevere, he can do with a dragon's interference. Because  _dragon_.

It's huge. Like, really huge, probably huge enough to rival Camelot's castle walls. Crimson scales cover it, marred with messy charred markings striking across its body. Ray could almost see it goring people with its bull horns and tusks, not to mention those  _teeth_ ―did it have multiple sets?―and brown eyes that blazed ruthlessly as they narrowed on Rip and Darhk's army, thick talons digging into the dirt.

Yes, Ray should be frightened. Absolutely frightened. But that was just it: the dragon was facing the black knights' army, not Camelot's. Its molten-patterned wings spread, as if to shield Guinevere and her soldiers from further onslaught. So, all in all, Ray finds it  _totally awesome_ instead.

The dragon ducks its head slightly, a snarl reverberating across the field, rumbling the ground beneath it. Its tail, inlaid with more scars and a bulbous wrecking-ball at the end, swings threateningly around as a soldier would a weapon before a warning shot. Ray's pretty sure he can see actual fire lighting up its belly and neck.

Ray's voice comes out high, his twelve year old self swooning back to life: " _Awesome_."

The army pauses and falls limp, showing Rip's blatant shock. Darhk yanks up his visor, one part just as dumbfounded and another part slightly manic.

"They  _do_ exist," he says.

The dragon roars.

Swords fall. Everyone covers their ears, but in vain: if the snarl shook the ground, the roar cut the sky. Ears, eyes, and noses bleed, screams bowing easily under it. Everything bends under the dragon―including the receivers.

Sparks jump from the soldiers' temples. Rip grimaces and rips his own device off. His army blinks and shakes their heads, finally lucid.

Well. That's one way to do it.

But how did the dragon know? Or did it just want to intimidate?

Ray gets his answer when King Arthur strikes Rip down and Darhk flees. The dragon leaps into the air, rears its great head, and casts a wall of flame at the edge of the forest, blocking Darhk's escape. Unadulterated rage seems to fuel its fire as much as its lungs, for it roars again and dives right for him.

Without hesitation, the dragon crushes Darhk underfoot. When its paw retreats, lumps of flesh nauseate Ray's sight, only for a moment before the dragon claws them apart and sets them on fire. For good measure, Ray distantly supposes.

By the time the dragon turns back to the now unified army, they have their weapons raised. Ray shakes himself out of his stupor and rushes to the front.

"Wait!" he calls, holding up his hand, "It clearly helped us! We shouldn't try to kill it!"

"Dragons are bloodthirsty beasts," King Arthur snaps, "For all we know, it will strike us next!"

His soldiers cry out in agreement. Except for Guinevere.

She mounts her horse and rides to Ray's side. "Arthur," she says, "Sir Raymond is right. See how the dragon is not moving to attack." She looks back, and true to her word, the dragon merely stares in guarded suspicion. "The evil is vanquished because of its efforts. And we have taken enough of our friends' lives today."

The army looks at each other uncertainly. Ray would like to say that it feels  _so amazing_ to have Queen Guinevere agreeing with him. Nate, Amaya, and Sara come forward to support him as well, which makes it twice as gratifying.

Guinevere turns her horse. Sensing her steed's anxiety and not wanting to get bucked off again, she dismounts and takes a few steps forward.

"Come forward, great beast," she says, hand outstretched, "for you have done us a great service and deserve our gratitude."

Surprisingly, the dragon's eyes flick to the Legends before obeying. Its gaze is piercing, leaving Ray whirling with fight-or-flight instincts in the split second it looked at him. Makes sense why Arthur's trigger happy―so to speak, seeing as he has no actual gun, that'd be weird―

"You understand us?" Guinevere says.

The dragon nods, igniting murmurs through the small crowd.

"Excellent. Then perhaps you may write your name, that we may know it when we tell tales of your bravery."

The dragon blinks owlishly, as if it wasn't expecting that. But ultimately, it shakes out its wings and engulfs in fire.

When the flame disperses―the Legends' mouths drop.

"Name's Mick," Mick Rory says, stark naked in front of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere with his usual lack of shame. "Mick Rory. Uh, Your Majesty."

Guinevere doesn't seem at all bothered by his nudity. Merely holds out her hand to Arthur, who promptly hands her his cloak. Mick throws it over his shoulders.

"You practice magic, then?" Guinevere says, "You are a sorcerer, like our Merlin?"

Strangely enough, Mick shifts from foot to foot, like he's suddenly shy. "Nah. I was born this way."

"Remarkable," Arthur says over the fresh burst of murmurs. "A human born with a dragon's soul."

"Well, I kinda hatched," Mick replies, "So, human hatched with a dragon's soul, I guess."

"How is this possible?"

"Um...evolution, I s'ppose."

Guinevere tilts her head slightly. "Evolution?"

Mick looks to Ray. "Um."

"He means an evolution of skill, Your Majesty," Ray says, "I do believe a sorcerer of immense skill, or perhaps another dragon, was able to craft a powerful enchantment."

"Another dragon, you say?" Arthur says, "There are more in this world?"

Mick shrugs. "Dragons have a way of knowin' if there are others around. I can feel plenty of 'em here. Pretty far away, though. We like mountains n' caves."

We. It's so weird to think of Mick as an actual  _dragon_. Sure, he was a hoarder and a thief, but a  _dragon_? How did nobody on the team notice?

Ray feels a rush of guilt. Of course the team didn't notice. They don't really bother paying attention to Mick.

"Magical birth of not, dragon or human," Guinevere says, "you are welcome here, Mick Rory."

Mick shifts again. "Thanks."

"And now that pleasantries are dealt with," Arthur says, "let us focus on the other matter."

All eyes turn to Rip's prone form.

"No need," Sara says, "we'll take him off your hands. Mick is with us, too―pretty sure a dragon can guard a prisoner."

Guinevere smiles flirtatiously. "A skilled warrior and friend of a dragon. You continue to surprise me."

Sara smiles back. How does she get all the girls? Ray really needs to ask.

"Very well," says Arthur, "you have proven your might this day. Far be it from me to distrust a capable comrade. He is in your hands."

Sara bows at the waist. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Now," Arthur says, "let us feast!"

Cheers erupt, and Mick grins.

"That's more like it," rumbles the dragon.

 

"Seriously.  _Dragon_! I can't believe it! Were you really hatched? How? Could you always shift like that? Are you like a  _were_ -dragon? Have you ever―"

"Haircut, if you don't shut up, I'll make a shish kabob outta you."


End file.
